


Home Fires

by Medie



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-09
Updated: 2010-02-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 03:42:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Romulans attacked Narenda III this morning," Phil said, putting the padd before him. "Klingon outpost. Civilian."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Fires

**Author's Note:**

> It occurred to me that an earlier war with the Romulans might move up the time table on a few things. Written for [](http://yahtzee63.livejournal.com/profile)[**yahtzee63**](http://yahtzee63.livejournal.com/)'s [Drabble Challenge](http://yahtzee63.livejournal.com/410178.html) but turned up too long for a comment.

While the Federation mourned, the Klingons went to war. Within days of Vulcan's destruction, they formally declared hostilities by destroying half a dozen warbirds and annexing two colonies.

"Only going to get worse from here," he said, glowering at the reports.

On the screen Number One made a noncommittal sound and tapped her own padd. "It's a blood debt, Chris," she said. Hearing his name on her lips still made grin like an idiot, even now.

She looked at him, catching the grin, and raised her eyebrows. _Really?_

Amused, Chris shrugged it off. The movement of his shoulders saying, _Let me have this one_.

Number One - still can't stop calling her that - leaned forward. "You know how the Klingons feel about blood debts, Chris."

He knew. They all did. For years, the only thing that had kept the Klingons at bay had been their history with President Archer. With his death, all that had changed.

With Nero's assault on the Klingons, it had all changed again.

"They'll rip the Romulans to shreds," he agreed. "It's going to be a damn mess."

She nodded. "It seems Captain Kirk will be getting a baptism by fire."

"I think he's had that," Chris said, tone growing even more grim.

Number One's smile was faint, but she didn't say anything in response. She didn't have to. He already knew what she was thinking.

Chris sighed. He'd never felt more helpless. He wanted to be out there. He _needed_ to be out there. With her. He needed to be anywhere but trapped on Earth behind a desk. Gritting his teeth against the frustration, he looked at her. "N--_Captain_ \-- "

Her smile gentled. "I will."

\--

"Well, we're in it now," Phil announced, frowning over the chart in his hand.

"How's that?" Chris asked, stretching one leg. Damn exercises. Damn therapy. Damn treatment. Damn megalomaniac, mass-murdering Romulans and their damn vendettas.

"Stop grumbling," Phil said. He brandished the padd in warning. "I can hear you from here."

"Quit trying to change the subject," Chris said. He grabbed for the padd. "Now, what has you clucking?"

"Romulans attacked Narenda III this morning," Phil said, putting the padd before him. "Klingon outpost. Civilian." He snorted. "Well, at least as civilian as the Klingons get."

"How bad?"

"No word yet," Phil answered, noncommittal as he turned away. "Starfleet's on it."

Ice clinked against glass, liquid splashing over them seconds later. Chris dropped the report. The slight catch in Boyce's voice was enough, but the drinks -- "All right, out with it, Phil. What am I not going to like?"

"Well, it's not that, Chris," Phil said. He turned around, pressing a glass into his hand. "The Klingons didn't get there in time, but we did."

"_We_ did?" Chris echoed. "What the hell was Starfleet doing rescuing a _Klingon colony_?"

Phil gulped down his drink. "Well, you know her, Chris, Number One never was one to sit on her hands."

The chill that went through Chris had nothing to do with the drink or his treatment. "The Yorktown?"

Phil nodded. "Got word this morning. They were responding."

"And -- " Chris asked, heart in throat. "_And_? Dammit, Phil, don't leave me hanging here. What. Happened?"

His old friend sighed heavily. "That's just it, Chris, we don't know. No one's heard a thing from that sector since. Romulans were jamming communications. Frankly, it's a damn miracle we got the distress call to begin with." Phil took the padd back from Chris. "They sent the Enterprise."

"Good," Chris said hollowly. "Good." He leaned his head back against the table and closed his eyes. It should have been him. He should have been the one backing her up. She was out there. "She'll be furious with them for sending Kirk."

Phil chuckled, but it sounded forced. "Probably," he agreed.

"She'll make it, Boyce," Chris warned. "It's Number One."

"I know, Chris, I know," Phil said. He didn't sound convinced.

Chris didn't want to hear it. He swung his legs around, reaching for the chair. He had to get over to Command. He was damn well going to be there when the report came in and said as much as he moved. "I have a feeling it'll be a doozy."

Phil smiled weakly. "God, I hope so."

-

The hours stretched by like years. Seconds were weeks, minutes like months, Chris felt like he aged a lifetime before a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Admiral Pike."

He looked up into the sympathetic face of his assistant, a young Betazoid woman. She smiled a little wider. "You fell asleep, sir."

Chris rubbed his face. "Apparently."

She hesitated, shifting restlessly on her feet, and he tensed. "Is there -- "

"A call for you, sir," she nodded, visibly relieved. "Yes, sir." Her message delivered, she made tracks for the door and Pike turned back to his desk.

"Here goes nothing," he murmured. Tapping a keypad, he sucked in a breath until the screen flicked to a familiar, if smudged and strained, face. He breathed out in a gust, his stomach falling to his feet. "Number One -- " he trailed off.

He wanted to tell her --

He needed to --

He groaned.

"I -- "

"Know," she said. One slender finger brushed the screen, just barely in sight. The gesture easily missed if his eyes hadn't been straining for it.

Chris smiled. "Get your ass back here, Captain. I expect a report by morning."

"Already on your desk," Number One said crisply. "We'll review it when I get in."

The screen went black and, heedless of who heard, Christopher Pike let out a whoop.

God, it felt _good_.


End file.
